


It's the Great Pumpkin Goop Slinger, Charlie Brown

by tatterwitch



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Gen, Halloween, Kissing, Pumpkins, Reader-Insert
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-28
Updated: 2015-10-28
Packaged: 2018-04-28 16:11:57
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,185
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5096969
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tatterwitch/pseuds/tatterwitch
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>During a quiet afternoon carving pumpkins, things between the reader and Sam take a playful turn.</p>
            </blockquote>





	It's the Great Pumpkin Goop Slinger, Charlie Brown

Layers of newspaper coated the floor, table, and couch in a crinkly grey-and-white carpet. Some old horror flick played on the TV, grainy picture monochromatic and more than a little cheesy. A pair of mugs was perched at the top of the table, steam curling off the surface of the liquid inside. Two rather large, rotund pumpkins sat atop the layered paper. A massive mixing bowl was on the floor, already half-full of orange and yellow innards. Kitchen knives, edges speckled with orange skin and tawny flesh, waited by the coffee cups.

You pressed your lips together, working to get your pumpkin to cooperate. The metal spoon in your hand made a dull scraping noise as you hollowed out the interior of the pumpkin. The TV let out a feminine, staticky shriek as a monster approached, stalking through a cemetery.

Sam sat beside you, large hands easily whittling away the goopy insides of his own pumpkin. A few stray strands of hair hung in his face, his brow creased in concentration. Suddenly, he looked up, catching you staring. A faint grin pulled the corner of his mouth up.

"What?"

You hurriedly ducked you head, shrugging nonchalantly. Heat crept up in your cheeks.

"Nothing, nothing."

"Uh-huh. What's taking you so long over there? I'm almost done and you're-" Sam dropped his spoon to lean closer, body-heat warming you side through the combined layers of his clothing an your's. "Only half-done? What've you been doing?"

"Um, trying to stay clean. The goop is super sticky and gross."

That got a laugh out of him. Sam's shoulders shook and he smiled, chuckling.

"You've had your hands in blood and ectoplasm and all sorts of stuff before. What's a little pumpkin gut?"

You sniffed, digging the spoon at a particularly resistant chunk of pumpkin innards. Your nose wrinkled when a fleck landed on your wrist.

"It's just...Ew." You muttered, renewing your efforts to remove the stubborn clump. Maybe if you braced the spoon's handle on the rim... The stringy orange-yellow mass slipped free, flinging through the air from the catapult of the spoon.

With a muffled, wet noise, it collided with Sam's chest. Bits of seeds and thin strings of tawny clung in a wet spot over plaid.

Very slowly, Sam looked up, brows winging high.

"You didn't."

You dropped your spoon, lifting your hands and shaking your head.

"I'm sorry! It was an accident! I didn't mean to, really! Sam, what are you-"

He dipped one hand into the bowl on the floor, coming up with a heaping handful of goop. His eyes glittered, narrowing menacingly.

You were up and running across the living room, dodging the assault. Pumpkin splattered against the wall inches from your hip, sticking in a chunky clump. Heavy footsteps sounded, pounding after you.

"Sam! No!" You ducked out of the way, listening to the volley make victim of another wall.

"You started it, Y/N." Sam grabbed up a fresh handful, cocking back and eyeing you as if waiting to see where you'd move to avoid getting hit.

"It was an accident! I didn't mean to- No!"

Sam moved like he was going to throw, causing you to turn to protect yourself.

You realized your mistake mid-movement. Warm wetness slapped against your butt. You whirled, eyes flying wide.

"I'm going to kill you."

Sam laughed, head canting back and shoulders shaking.

You stooped, scooping up a large handful of goop, took aim, and let loose. The ball of tawny hit his exposed throat before toppling to the floor. He looked at you in mute shock before catching up the mess and hurling it back.

A war was waged, weapons consisting of bits of pumpkin rind and the stringy clumps of orange innards. Newspaper kicked up, sticking to shoes and orange-gummed skin. The monster movie still played, screen obscured by a spattering of congealing chunks. The mess was splattered over walls, table, couch, and chairs. The pumpkins, themselves, rolled across the table aimlessly when either one of you knocked into the surface. The bowl was emptied of ammunition, nothing left but sticky hands filled with meager scraps of orange strings and white seeds.

You dodged the last toss, backing yourself into a corner unintentionally. Your spine came flush with the wall as Sam stalked closer, sticky hands outstretched.

"No! No, Sam! Sam! Nooo!"

Your voice rose, lifting to a shriek before dissolving into peals of giggles as his hands discovered your ticklish spots. You slapped and clutched at his arms and shoulders, trying in vain to free yourself from the torture. Your breath stuttered, coming in hitching gasps as you fought to catch it. Sam's eyes were alight with humor, glittering with flecks of blue and green. His lips tipped up in a boyish smile, parted around his own huffed laughter. Your hands pressed flat against his chest as you struggled to catch your breath.

Warm air puttered across your cheeks before even warmer lips laid across your own. Hands roamed, cradling the curve of your cheek and the swell of your hip. The kiss was chaste, a warm meeting of lips that made something sweet and strong furl in your chest.

Sam pulled back slightly, letting his forehead rest against your own. His thumb smoothed over your cheek, other hand running up your back in soothing circles.

"You have no idea how long I've wanted to do that, Y/N."

"What? Instigate a pumpkin goop fight?" You teased.

A tiny hint of pink bloomed in his cheeks. His lips quirked up in a shy smile.

"I meant kissing you."

Heat hovered, making itself at home in your face.

"Well, I mean, I think I might need a re-do. There was something-"

Sam swooped in, slanting his lips across your's and coaxing your mouth to open. His tongue slid across your own before he nipped at your lower lip gently. One palm cradled your neck, fingers pushing through the hair at the nape of your neck. The hand on your back dipped low, fingertips skating across the gap where your shirt had lifted to expose the small of your back. A breathy sort of noise got muffled into the kiss when Sam canted his head again for a better angle. He slowly pulled away, dropping a few softer kisses across your lips as he did. His eyes were darker, a glimmering muddle of hazy colors, nose nudging your own before there was a loud swear from the doorway.

Both of you turned, eyes widening innocently.

Dean stood there, eyes roving over the carnage that was the living room. He pointed a finger at the pair of you with an exasperated glare.

"Yeah, hey, congrats on getting over the moon-eyes. When you two are done mooching in the corner, you clean this up. I don't wanna be smellin' pumpkins and spunk for the next month, okay? Jesus." With that, he wandered off, muttering darkly about hormones and nerds.

You and Sam shared a look before bursting into giggles again, laughter that melted into slow, lingering kisses.

Maybe cleaning up could wait a little longer.


End file.
